


Lodestar

by 64907



Series: Skyward [2]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Epilogue, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 16:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: “When this is over,” Sho told him. “When there’s no war between us."





	Lodestar

**Author's Note:**

> That summary, for those who don't remember (like me tbh), is taken from part 7 of Skyward. This probably wouldn't make sense to anyone who hasn't read that thing.
> 
> I worked on this a month or two ago, back when I realized there could be more to this since I didn't manage to make the last chunk of Skyward as long as I had planned. Ftr this is probably the softest thing I've ever written. I'm not very confident in my ability to write fluff, but here we are.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Jun, Sho had long discovered, was terrible with mornings.  
  
It didn't matter if they were in Saiph or in Hamal. Jun was the type who'd burrow himself into the soft sheets and doze away as the world woke up around him.  
  
A pampered prince, Sho thought. Fondly.  
  
He carefully dislodged Jun’s arm around his waist to leave Jun on the bed, face mashed against the pillows. A sheet was covering half of his body as he slept on his stomach, his back revealed along with a swell of his buttock down to a pale thigh. After a full month of planning the ascension, they finally had time to themselves. Time they’d both indulged in during the night before, if the pleasant soreness Sho felt in various parts of his body meant a thing.  
  
Sho didn’t bother to fix the sheet. Instead he ran his fingers up Jun's nape, curling at the soft hair there, unable to keep himself from smiling when Jun twitched away.  
  
Sho let him be, procuring a robe to wrap around himself. He stalked to the balcony overviewing the city, elbows resting against the polished stone, body inclined forward.  
  
The breeze was cool against his skin. The sun was just rising, the edge of it appearing from behind the thick cover of clouds, chasing away the purplish hue left by the cover of stars from the night before. It was breathtaking to watch: dawn leading to a new day, violet gradually turning orange then blue.  
  
A sky that was as beautiful as Jun had said.  
  
There was a distant cawing from a flock of birds that suddenly appeared overhead, and Sho followed them with his eyes as they soared towards the horizon. Eventually the sun appeared to have swallowed them, and it was only then that Sho remembered: Saiph had twin suns, almost overlapping when the day was just beginning.  
  
It explained why their sky was so illuminated in ways Hamal's wasn't. Twin suns, eight moons. Saiph had an abundance of everything—celestial bodies, land, water, resources, technology. A planet at the peak of its growth, steadily prospering.  
  
The Saiph at present was what Sho hoped Hamal would eventually be. With the alliance, he hoped the changes would be lasting, that the influences of both planets to one another would be beneficial for future generations. He hoped to make a change, one that Jun's father had believed to be impossible and one that his mother had failed to accomplish.  
  
He had many aspirations. But, he knew, he could achieve nothing on his own. It wasn't just his empire anymore—they made it together. And together they'd cultivate it, see it last for ages. No more wars or bloodshed, no more prejudices.  
  
They’d fought hard to get here. And still, there were times Sho would catch himself unable to believe it. He’d been fighting his whole life. He hadn’t known that the arrival of that rotting, dilapidated handler ship would lead him— _them_ —here.  
  
"Come back to bed," he heard, and he couldn't help smiling. It was fortunate Sho had his back to the entryway of the King’s chambers. "It's still early."  
  
"I wanted to see daybreak," Sho said, keeping his eyes on the sky. Below, in the palace grounds, he could hear the servants milling around, running errands. The traces of the celebrations were yet to disappear. Beyond the palace gates, the citadel was waking.  
  
He heard footsteps, and soon, Jun's arms were around him, holding him close. They were separated by the robe Sho had thrown around himself, but just that. Jun hadn't bothered to put on anything.  
  
"Was my absence so urgent that you chose to stride here naked?" Sho asked lightly, leaning back on instinct.  
  
When he’d woken up in the infirmary after everything, he’d found Jun sleeping by his bedside, still wearing the filthy clothes from the last time Sho had seen him. He’d seen traces of his blood on Jun’s sleeves, and when he’d shifted, Jun had woken up, had stared at him unblinking, disbelieving.  
  
“Hello,” Sho had greeted in a hoarse croak, and Jun had yanked him, had held him like he’d never let go.  
  
“Idiot,” Jun had said, half-muffled against Sho’s hair. “Why did you do that? You promised I wouldn’t lose you.”  
  
The warmth had been comforting. “And I kept that promise,” Sho had told him.  
  
Now, Jun’s breaths were ghosting the side of his neck, a ticklish sensation that Sho wasn’t fully accustomed to, but one he gladly welcomed.  
  
"I thought you were gone. You left me sleeping alone on a bed before," Jun said.  
  
Sho said nothing, remembering. Jun had slept so soundly. In their last night together in the flagship, Sho had allowed himself to take what he could so he’d remember more. He’d planned to come to Saiph when he’d known he could buy their army a bit of time. He’d been prepared to lose everything except for the memories, and he’d been selfish the previous night. While Jun had slept, Sho had kissed him goodbye, knowing he’d never be aware.  
  
He placed his hands on top of Jun’s arms around his waist and held on. “I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore.”  
  
Not without you.  
  
For a moment, Jun was silent, breathing calmly against his neck.  
  
Then: “Come back to bed,” Jun coaxed once more.  
  
Sho turned to face Jun, fingers tracing his jaw. Like this, Jun looked like he had just emerged from a lovely dream: his hair was mussed and he had a soft look in his eyes, sunlight making the brown more radiant.  
  
He was even more handsome in the mornings, Sho thought.  
  
“The world is waking,” Sho said.  
  
“We’ve got time to deal with the world,” Jun said, catching his hand to hold it in his. His touch shifted to pull Sho closer, his words uttered in Sho’s space. “We have all the time now.”  
  
That, Sho had known to be true. He’d said the same thing the night before; partly to remind Jun, mostly to make himself believe.  
  
Sho allowed himself to be led inside, to be guided back to the bed. Before he could lie on it, however, Jun untied his robe and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall soundlessly to the floor.  
  
He tugged Jun to him, their mouths meeting briefly, teasingly, but full of promise and familiarity. They were both smiling, Sho noted.  
  
“You like this in the mornings too?” he asked, kissing each of the marks found around and on Jun’s lips.  
  
“We already spent a morning together,” Jun reminded him. They fell to the bed together, hardly separating. “Did you forget?”  
  
“Never,” Sho said, ending in a quiet gasp as Jun trailed kisses down the column of his neck. His fingers buried themselves in Jun’s hair, the strands soft in his touch. “I never forget my indulgences.”  
  
“Then,” Jun said, smiling over his collarbone, “indulge me.”  
  
It was easy to lie there, letting Jun have whatever he wanted. Sho rewarded each kiss with a sound, knowing Jun loved to hear him. Jun lavished him with affection, lingering on each scar and warming them with his mouth. The sensation was dulled over the hypertrophic flesh, but Sho wouldn’t mistake the brush of Jun’s lips. He’d grown used to it, and yet, he still found himself wanting more.  
  
He heard his name and he opened his eyes, finding Jun to be looking up at him.  
  
“Let me,” was all Jun said.  
  
“I’d let you do anything,” Sho said. At Jun’s answering smile, he had to add, “Within reason, of course. And most certainly not when you’re inebriated.”  
  
Jun shuffled forward, kissing him sweetly, tenderly. The slickness of his tongue against Sho’s own sent Sho to a muffled moan, broken when Jun pulled away.  
  
“Your bedtalk is too intricate,” Jun said, hot breath fanning Sho’s jaw, “my King.”  
  
“Wrong title,” Sho said, the two of them sharing another kiss, “my Emperor.”  
  
When Jun laughed, he did it in Sho’s space, his broad, oversized shoulders shaking in mirth. Something inside Sho’s chest swelled; surely, it was not possible to be this happy. Not him. He’d never felt like this before.  
  
He hadn’t been allowed to.  
  
As if sensing what was on his mind, Jun whispered, “Stop thinking.”  
  
“You don’t even know what I was thinking of,” Sho retorted. He wondered if it was so easy for Jun that he could simply tell. The Hamali court had called Sho unpredictable, shrewd, even deceptive, and he had been for almost anyone.  
  
Until he’d met one Saiphan.  
  
“Politics, the alliance, this moment,” Jun said. If he was guessing, he’d gotten them all correct. “There’s too much in your mind.” He cupped the side of Sho’s face, thumb stroking a cheekbone. “We’ll do it together, whatever it is. I won’t let you do it alone.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said with confidence. He’d never been alone, not since he’d had Jun.  
  
Jun smiled just as the rays of sunlight bathed their room bright orange. In Sho’s eyes, there’d never be a more fitting king. For a moment, Sho let go of logic and allowed himself to think, to consider: Jun could command an entire planet and they’d obey him without question. He was lovelier than the day.  
  
He pulled Jun down, cupping his nape as he surged upwards for a kiss. He let himself focus on the feeling, on the contentment. There was peace now. Their people were no longer at war. The cultures were beginning to blend, beginning with the current fashion popular in their planets. His people clearly adored Jun, and—  
  
“You’re thinking again,” Jun said, breaking the kiss. He dusted soft ones over Sho’s jaw. “If you’re set to do that, you might as well tell me what you have in mind.”  
  
“My people love you,” Sho found himself saying, and he quickly learned that Jun’s mouth was an adequate distraction.  
  
“And?” Jun pulled back to look at him, and Sho deliberately averted his gaze. Jun would know. It was only a matter of how long it’d take him.  
  
A few beats. Then: “Since when did you care about what people might have to say?”  
  
“Since my people became your people too, and since yours became mine.”  
  
Jun blinked. “You’re my consort,” he said almost disbelievingly, as if he couldn’t fathom the reason for Sho’s worries.  
  
“I know,” Sho said. “As you’re mine.”  
  
“My people will love you,” Jun said, like he spoke gospel and not one of his hopes.  
  
“You don’t know that,” Sho said. For more than a century, their planets had been on the brink of war. It was only now that things were changing, but Sho wasn’t that deluded to think that the changes would occur in a fortnight. It would take years, perhaps a decade, and a lot of work.  
  
“I do. I represent my people, though I have no control over them. But I know they will because I do,” Jun said. The easy admission made Sho still, and promptly look away once he recovered.  
  
It was the same for him, but for Jun to speak so openly, so full of certainty...  
  
Jun held Sho’s face in his hands, and Sho knew there was no escape. “Look at me.”  
  
Sho did.  
  
“I don’t know how it is in Hamal,” Jun began, and Sho blinked in confusion. What was this? “I haven’t looked into it, but don’t worry, I plan to. What I meant to say is, in Saiph, ceremonies don’t simply mean you will get publicly recognized as Consort to the King. With it, everyone will know that our union wasn’t done just to cement the alliance or for any political interest. With it, in front of everyone, you will be my…”  
  
He trailed off, and Sho quirked an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Yes?” he prompted, just as Jun blurted out “Partner.”  
  
“Partner,” Sho repeated.  
  
“In rule and in life,” Jun said, a faint blush on his cheeks. It was an odd phenomenon, that someone so attractive and confident could be so hesitant. Sho had seen Jun yesterday. Planets had flocked to Saiph to see Jun crowned, and he’d worn the golden circlet as if it had been made for him. “I know I haven’t really asked outright, but that’s because I was planning to do it later when I’m better prepared.”  
  
“Are you?” Sho asked. “Better prepared, I mean.”  
  
“I’m not,” Jun admitted, embarrassed. “But I have to know.”  
  
Sho kissed him fully on the mouth to placate him. “Ask.” He had an inkling on what Jun would likely say, and it was already making his heart thump madly in his chest, but he had to hear Jun say the words.  
  
“Would you let me?” Jun asked. “Would you grant me the honor of presenting you to my people so they would know who you are to me? I know the speculations and the rumors are things you enjoy, but I don’t want there to be any doubts about what we are to one another.”  
  
“And what are we?” Sho asked, just to be sure.  
  
“King and Emperor,” Jun said, almost immediately, “but nothing without the other.”  
  
Sho watched him for a moment, admiring the small furrow between Jun’s strong brows. His prominent facial features often gave away what he was feeling, speaking volumes before he could even open his mouth.  
  
“Yes,” Sho said.  
  
It was Jun’s turn to be surprised, mouth parting slightly. “Yes?”  
  
“Yes, I’d let you,” Sho affirmed. “I can’t imagine saying otherwise, I—”  
  
Jun didn’t let him finish, kissing him, and Sho linked his arms behind Jun’s head to pull him close. Jun’s hands climbed down his neck, slipping under his nape, and Sho cherished every moment with him. They had each other, and at present, this.  
  
Everything else would follow at the right time.  
  
For a while, they kissed indulgently. In truth, Sho loved being the recipient of Jun’s affection. They’d skipped most of the courtship rites, being unfamiliar with the practices in their cultures, but Jun was patient with him, gentle and giving.  
  
In Lucida Ventris, Sho had expected Jun to take what he’d needed, what he’d been used to before his exile. He had thought Jun would lie with him in the same way he’d lain with others before Sho: out of necessity, perhaps with a semblance of want, but quickly done and immediately forgotten.  
  
He hadn’t expected to be given as much control as he’d needed—he’d been so used to people taking something from him. But that night, he’d had it in abundance, along with everything Jun had to give.  
  
In the flagship, it had been the same. And Sho had never forgotten how it’d felt, how all the times they’d been intimate never felt like a chore or a passing indulgence, but instead honest and open, with Sho having nothing to fear.  
  
He was always at his bravest when Jun was by his side.  
  
He felt Jun’s other hand gently nudging his legs apart and reaching between them, and his answering gasp was lost against Jun’s hot mouth. They kissed as Jun’s hand began moving, providing friction that was sending Sho arching.  
  
Jun moved to his pulse, mouth latching onto that spot on his neck and sucking, and Sho was fairly certain he’d leave a mark. In the part of Sho’s mind that was desperately clinging to coherency, he found that he didn’t mind.  
  
Let them see, he thought. Let them all know.  
  
Jun’s mouth began its steady descent, scattering kisses on bony tips and on the softest flesh, teeth nipping whenever he found the need to hear more of Sho’s noises. Soon, Jun’s mouth met his hand, and Sho whispered Jun’s name as he felt warmth around his cock.  
  
He grabbed fistfuls of the sheets at his sides in an effort to not lose himself, but Jun wasn’t making it easy. Was this how it was for Jun when Sho had done the same to him? He could remember Jun clawing at the sheets out of desperation, and he wondered if he’d be sent to do the same soon enough.  
  
Jun took his time, contrary to what Sho had imagined. He thought Jun was impatient in all aspects of his personality, but looking back, each time they’d made love, Jun had taken his time, had savored the moment, as if nothing else had existed but Sho and Sho’s pleasure.  
  
Jun was, like always, a generous lover.  
  
“Jun,” he whispered unwittingly, his mind beginning to haze. Jun’s tongue was making his eyes roll to the back of his head as it flicked repeatedly over the slit before his lips wrapped around the tip to give one forceful suck.  
  
“Oh,” Sho said, breath hitching. It was good. It made Sho hold on, staving off the building orgasm to feel more. Jun moved steadily between his legs, unrelenting and passionate, sending pleasurable spikes up Sho’s spine. Despite Sho’s best efforts, the insides of his thighs were already tingling. “Jun, I—”  
  
He was unable to find words as Jun swallowed around him once more, taking all of him into his mouth. It made such a pretty sight, and one Sho wished only him would see. Jun was hollowing his cheeks, the sharp lines of his cheekbones caught in shadows, and Sho reached out before he could ponder on it.  
  
His thumb brushed Jun’s eyelashes, fluttering against his fingertip like the wings of a butterfly. Jun’s eyes met his, and his gaze was intense and focused—solely, only on Sho.  
  
It was what sent Sho to the brink, spilling in Jun’s mouth, his toes curling. He could feel how Jun didn’t pull away, how he’d taken all of it. He blinked blearily and looked down, watching Jun as Jun let him go, but not before dropping a noisy, open-mouthed kiss to the glistening tip.  
  
He was half-expecting Jun to leave for the refresher, but Jun crawled up to align their bodies, and Sho accepted his kiss immediately. He tasted himself and chased it away with his tongue, until there was only Jun and nothing else. He felt the press of Jun’s erection against his thigh and pressed his lips to Jun’s ear, nibbling at the shell of it.  
  
Jun was perhaps unaware that he was moving his hips in increments, in short, quick thrusts, but when Sho moved to position his limb better, he heard a quiet exhale.  
  
“Do it,” he urged softly against Jun’s ear, and Jun moved faster.  
  
Sho hooked his other leg around Jun’s waist, serving as leverage as Jun took what he needed. In moments, he’d spill and mark the crest of Sho’s hip. But Sho wanted to give him that push, to undo the man who’d been his undoing earlier.  
  
“In Hamal,” he started, and Jun’s eyes snapped open to zero on him, “ceremonies mean that two people are bound for life. If we hold one on my planet as well, it’d mean that you’re mine, that we’d spend a life together—the rest of what we have left.”  
  
“I—” Jun tried, but from experience, Sho knew it was the only thing he could say. He was so close, his breath hurried, his eyes dark.  
  
“I’m yours,” Sho whispered, right over Jun’s ear. “For life.”  
  
Jun shuddered, Sho’s name escaping from his lips. Sho held Jun as his body trembled, warmth spreading over Sho’s thigh, hip, and abdomen. He stroked Jun’s scalp and waited for Jun’s high to dissipate, allowing Jun to catch his breath against his neck.  
  
When Jun came to, they kissed lazily, slowly.  
  
He lowered his leg from the crest of Jun’s hip and Jun extracted himself away, leaving the bed momentarily to retrieve a damp washcloth. Sho settled for simply observing as Jun cleaned them both up, wiping away traces of their lovemaking as thoroughly as he could.  
  
He waited until Jun returned to the bed, welcoming his kiss once more. He could get used to this. To mornings full of spontaneity, acting as extensions of the night before. With the way things were, Sho was certain he’d need decades to tire of Jun, to stop wanting him.  
  
There was a knock on the doors and he could feel Jun freeze on top of him.  
  
Curiously, Sho asked, “Is it really so scandalous for Saiphans to see their King in bed with anyone?”  
  
“Not just anyone,” Jun clarified, his face flushing. “You’re the Emperor of Hamal.”  
  
“I know,” Sho said coolly.  
  
Jun gave him a look, and he smiled. “I meant,” Jun said, “that you’re not just someone.”  
  
“They know their King has a consort,” Sho pointed out.  
  
“Not just any consort,” Jun said. He was always stubborn. “Don’t you dare let the servant enter.”  
  
Sho glanced at the doors. With a word, they would open. Jun had granted him authorization the moment he’d arrived. “She’s come for your morning orders.”  
  
“ _Sho_ ,” Jun said pointedly.  
  
Sho laughed. He planted a quick kiss to Jun’s nose. “In Hamal, it is scandalous.”  
  
Jun gawked at him, and he simply nodded. Since his birth, he had been subjected to much speculation, whether he’d live long enough or not, whether he’d be assassinated for his scathing remarks at court or not. It had been revolutionary for the people of Hamal to talk about something else not involving his health and his political career.  
  
And, Sho thought, who doesn’t love a scandal? Even if his relationship with Jun was far from scandalous considering the recent events, still, it had been unexpected then that the Emperor Apparent would be involved with the Crown Prince of Saiph.  
  
“Yoko, the servant in your palace—” Jun stammered, and Sho tried not to laugh at him, “— _we’ve been seen_ —”  
  
“Yes,” Sho said, calmly.  
  
Jun hid his face in his neck, and Sho knew he was blushing. “I can’t believe you,” Jun said.  
  
“But don’t you see? It’s why my people love you in the first place,” Sho said. “They know you are the Saiphan that was rumored to have been with the Emperor, even before he’d taken his crown. Can you imagine what kind of wild tales we’ve created together? I’ll share my favorite: some of them believe that we’ve been in secret correspondence for years, working towards the peace that we enjoy today. They think we planned it all—exposing the rats in our kingdoms. They think we’ve been lovers for long.”  
  
“I’ve had suitors then,” Jun retorted. “You’ve had some, too.”  
  
“They say the suitors were just for show, to hide who we truly were to one another. Your people believe some of them, even supplemented the tale to help perpetuate it,” Sho said.  
  
“My people what?” Jun asked. He appeared as if he was having difficulty processing that his own people believed the rumors.  
  
“All those trips you’ve made for your own leisure, they think they were all done to meet me in secret,” Sho whispered. “For you to be with your lover, they say. Just like your ancestor.”  
  
Jun’s face contorted to a myriad of expressions, and Sho added, “Rather poetic of them, but they are right about one thing: everything that’s happened, I could never have accomplished any of it without your help.”  
  
“Hardly,” Jun said with a flush to his cheeks. He tended to undermine what he’d done whenever he was embarrassed, but Sho was quick to remind him. “Who told you about these stories?”  
  
“Iseya-kun.” At Jun’s questioning look, he smiled. “And Daigo-kun, Aiba-chan...”  
  
“All of them?” Jun asked, incredulously.  
  
“People flock to them in an attempt to have them confirm some of the speculations,” Sho explained. “Rest assured, they said nothing of substance.”  
  
“But they didn’t stop the rumors at all!” Jun exclaimed.  
  
“Naturally,” Sho said. He tucked a lock of Jun’s hair behind his ear. “We Hamali enjoy gossip. You know this.”  
  
Jun had nothing to say to that, his bottom lip jutting to a pout.  
  
Another series of knocks came, and Jun groaned. “No, she cannot enter.”  
  
“On whose authority?” Sho asked.  
  
“Mine,” Jun said stubbornly, lifting his head to look at Sho. “I’m the King of Saiph.”  
  
“And my King commands me?” Sho asked with a smile.  
  
He saw how Jun took those words in, how he’d never considered them before. The undeniable effect washed over him, and Sho almost rolled his eyes. It was rather simple to please Jun, the adorable fool that he was.  
  
“Yes,” Jun said.  
  
Sho turned to the door and said, raising his voice, “We’re preoccupied. Come back later.”  
  
They heard a string of apologies uttered very quickly followed by the sound of footsteps scurrying away, and Sho faced Jun once more.  
  
“I did what my King has commanded,” he said. “You’re making a very funny face right now, hardly attractive if you must know.”  
  
Jun was laughing when he leaned in for another kiss. “You’ll let me plan for both ceremonies? One here and one in Hamal?”  
  
“Yes,” Sho said between them. He was still ensconced in Jun’s arms, and he felt perfectly content. Having Jun this close—it hadn’t been like this with anyone else.  
  
This, Sho thought, feels right. If he was allowed to be this happy, then he’d hold on to it for as long as he could. They had both fought for this. “You handle that, I’ll deal with the border expansion.” He blinked, suddenly remembering something. “Though it crossed my mind that perhaps, we should construct a new palace.”  
  
Jun’s expression brightened, a slow smile crossing over his features. “Ours.”  
  
“Yes,” Sho said. “We can have it in one of the colonies halfway between our planets. I believe my ancestor had these planetoids she claimed for herself when she eloped with the Saiphan king. We can visit them to plan for the new capital of the new empire. After all, if we hold the ceremonies, we can’t be expected to rule apart.”  
  
“No, we can’t,” Jun agreed. “And I don’t want to.”  
  
Sho grinned, brushing his knuckles over Jun’s cheek.  
  
“You and your attachment tendencies.”

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought if ever I'd be nuts enough to write the wedding, it'd probably be on Nino's POV for the laughs, but like always, don't hold me to that. To everyone who stuck with this, thank you, thank you! I hope the softness of this has managed to supplement the original work.


End file.
